Hands
by TripUpStairs
Summary: A Faberry smut fic anthology.
1. Library Stacks

**A/N: **Welcome to my smut fic anthology! As of chapter 5, these fics have all been previously posted on either my blog or on AO3, but I figured I'd put them in one place here on FFnet as well. The fics are posted in the chronological order in which I wrote them, beginning with Library Stacks below. Enjoy!

Rachel and Quinn take a study break. College!Faberry smut.

* * *

The Sterling Memorial Library is equal parts intimidating and mesmerizing. Rachel felt inadequate walking through the doors with Quinn the first time. She's never been one to doubt her intelligence, but something about Yale's largest library makes her feel like an unworthy simpleton. It's gotten better with subsequent visits. She no longer feels as if there's a giant sign over her head saying she doesn't belong anymore.

It's late spring semester, finals are rapidly approaching, and both she and Quinn have papers due early next week. The last thing she wants to do is spend her Saturday afternoon with her girlfriend in the library. However, they are both unfailingly responsible students so with only a little bit of foot dragging, mostly from Quinn, they make the journey from the dorm to the library.

Quinn holds open the door for her, and Rachel passes through with a shy smile, which widens as Quinn threads her fingers through hers. Quinn pulls her toward the elevators, and they manage to board one alone.

"Which floor, madam?" Rachel says with a flirty smile.

"Your choice. It's a Saturday afternoon, we should be able to find a table anywhere really," Quinn says with a bit of a grumble.

Rachel frowns and presses a button. She's not even sure which floor she picked, and really, it doesn't matter. While the first couple of floors are grand and ornate, the upper levels hold the library stacks. Rachel has long since learned that stacks everywhere kind of look the same-long rows of musty books with tables and chairs spread at random throughout the floor.

"Quinn, a bad attitude isn't going to help us get through our studies any quicker. In fact, it'll just make us both all the more miserable."

"I know," Quinn sighs. "Sorry. It's just... I really like you in my sweatshirt."

Rachel bites back a pleased smile. She had thrown on one of Quinn's Yale sweatshirts. It's big and comfy with a loose neckline that hangs off her shoulders. Rachel had already made plans to steal it to be honest. Hearing Quinn admit to liking her in it makes her like it all the more.

Rachel slides over to her, slipping her arm around Quinn's neck. She leans up on her tiptoes, making sure her lips graze Quinn's ear as she husks, "If you behave, maybe I'll let you take it off of me tonight."

"Rachel," Quinn groans just as the elevator dings open.

Rachel bites back a smile as she slips away from Quinn's grasp.

"You are the worst," Quinn says. "How am I going to get this paper done when you're busy putting ideas into my head?"

"You'll manage," Rachel says. But she's sympathetic. One look at those darkening hazel eyes, one grip of Quinn's hand on her hip, and Rachel felt the twinge of arousal somewhere below her stomach. It leaves her heart racing and a flush of warmth through her body.

They find a table without much difficulty. There are a few people scattered around the tables on their floor, but it seems even Ivy League students like to avoid the library on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Rachel takes her books out of her bag, setting up with her laptop opposite of Quinn. She fiddles, arranging everything just so, and then finds herself staring at her laptop screen. A blank word document shines at her, mocking her with its emptiness. She checks her email. She flips through her book. She checks her email again. Her word document remains blank.

Meanwhile, Quinn is across from her, typing away methodically, occasionally thumbing through the couple of books she brought with her. Rachel finds herself staring, transfixed by the way the light plays across Quinn's face. The way her brow furrows in concentration one moment and then relaxes the next. The way she bites her bottom lip, showing a flash of white teeth, and then traces the spot she nipped with her tongue. The way her eyes flick back and forth, golden with expertise and command.

"Rachel?"

She jolts, sitting up straight. "Y-Yes Quinn," she says.

"How's it coming?"

"Just fine, thank you for asking. I've made remarkable progress and really was only stopping to think momentarily in order to optimally formulate my next sentence in such a manner that I know my professor will appreciate its syntax and significance in transition from one discussion point to the next," Rachel says in a single breath.

"Okay," Quinn says, smiling.

Rachel purses her lips, narrowing her eyes at Quinn who merely arches a brow in return. Rachel huffs and stares down at her laptop in return, determined to get some work done.

Some time passes, enough for her to outline her paper and write an introduction when she catches Quinn staring off into the stacks. Rachel doesn't say anything, assuming Quinn's thinking or taking a short mental respite. But then Quinn shifts in her seat, closing her eyes and licking her lips. Rachel finds herself once again captivated.

And when Quinn opens her eyes, her stare dark and wanton from underneath her lashes, Rachel not only shivers, but feels warmth pooling all over again. She wants to be embarrassed at how quickly her underwear becomes uncomfortably damp, but all she can think about is how much she wants to shed Quinn of her cotton dress. She watches, still temporarily stunned by those eyes, as Quinn takes a breath and stands. She moves around the table and holds out a hand. Rachel takes it without a second thought, allowing Quinn to pull her to her feet.

Quinn leans forward. Rachel just barely resists arching into her as Quinn's lips graze the corner of her mouth and cheek before landing at the shell of her ear where she throatily says, "You have to promise not to scream."

Rachel's uncertain if she'll be able to restrain herself at the rate her body is reacting to the simplest of movements and touches from Quinn, but she nods her head nonetheless. "What about our things?" Rachel says with the only rational thought she has left.

"It'll be fine," Quinn says impatiently. Then she's pulling her away, and Rachel finds she cares very little about her books or laptop.

They dart through the stacks, heading to the deeper and darker recesses until Quinn picks an aisle at random. Rachel giggles as her girlfriend tugs her further down the aisle, but the sound dies as Quinn stops and pulls their bodies flush together. And then Rachel can't take it anymore, pushing Quinn back against the shelves as she initiates the kiss with ferocity that stuns them both. A few books fall onto their sides as Quinn's body rocks into the stack. Rachel parts her lips from their incessant press, taking Quinn's bottom lip between her own. She pins Quinn with her body, arms braced on the edge of the shelf at shoulder height.

But that leaves Quinn's hands free, and they grip and rub up and down her sides, feeling her ribs and grazing the sides of her breasts underneath the sweatshirt. Quinn angles her head, evolving the kiss as their lips slide and part against each other. And oh, it's warm and wet and needy. Rachel whimpers into it, and then her girlfriend's tongue is in her mouth. Quinn grabs a fistful of hair with one hand, guiding Rachel's head back and dominating the kiss. She uses her other hand to support her at the small of her back, and Rachel's glad for it because she can't help but arch further into Quinn.

Rachel is left panting as Quinn breaks the kiss and releases the hold she has on her hair. But Quinn is unrelenting, hands smoothing down her back until they cup her ass, pulling Rachel as close to her as possible. Rachel trembles all over again at the feel of her girlfriend's supple form pressed tightly against her, and she aches for a touch, a friction, something to meet the throb radiating from her center. Quinn is busy at her neck even as her hands squeeze and caress. Her tongue smoothes down to the hollow at her collarbone, and then her teeth rake across bone.

"Do you know what it does to me? Seeing you in my sweatshirt and that short skirt," Quinn murmurs as she kisses her way to Rachel's shoulder.

"It's comfortable," Rachel manages to say.

"Right," Quinn says, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "It's also incredibly sexy, and you know it."

And then Quinn turns in one swift motion so it's Rachel that's now pinned against the shelf. Rachel reaches out for something to grab on to as Quinn attacks her neck, but she only succeeds in knocking a few books to the floor. The books hit the ground with a loud thud, and they freeze. There's a faint murmur of noise in the distance, and they wait, hardly breathing to see if it grows louder.

It doesn't.

They lock eyes for a moment and then Quinn smirks before kissing her hard. Rachel is ready for her though, and she quickly slides her tongue between Quinn's lips. There's a hum, and Rachel feels Quinn start to give, her body melting into her as she explores the depths of her girlfriend's mouth like it's the first time all over again. But then Quinn wrenches away.

"No you don't," Quinn whispers huskily.

Rachel's breath hitches at the words, and her pulse pounds as Quinn kisses down her jaw and neck, back to the edge of the Yale sweatshirt. Quinn yanks it down, holding the material tightly with one hand as her lips and tongue explore the newly exposed skin along the tops of her breasts. At their height difference, it's a bit of an awkward position so Quinn is soon traveling back up to her lips.

Her girlfriend's hand curves over her ass to the back of her thigh as they kiss. Rachel clings to her neck for balance as her leg gets hiked up high over Quinn's hip and held there by a steady arm. Quinn's hips pump into her, and Rachel's mouth goes dry. For a split-second it's enough, but then she wants, she needs, more. And thankfully, Quinn isn't stopping. In fact, she adjusts her stance slightly so that her thigh rubs directly into Rachel's clit as she rocks into her. Rachel bites down on Quinn's shoulder, suppressing her moan.

The shelves jut awkwardly into her back and legs, but she doesn't think much about them because there's a fire somewhere below her stomach and Quinn is pressing up against her and it's all just so...unfff

"Shhh," Quinn says.

The world reshapes outside of Quinn and the heat rushing through her veins. Hazel eyes gleam with amusement, and there's a smug smile playing across her girlfriend's lips.

"That was hardly loud, Quinn," Rachel snaps.

When Quinn just merely arches an eyebrow in turn, Rachel has only a moment to realize she's in trouble before her girlfriend drops her leg and turns her around so that her front is pressed up against the shelves. Quinn's hips press into her ass, and Rachel feels her breasts against her back. She can't help but shift back into her in a not-so-subtle grind. Then Quinn's hand is under her skirt and cupping her sex, while her other hand possessively claims a breast.

Rachel reaches out to the side, trying to grip the shelf for something to hang on to, but she only manages to knock more books down as her hand scrabbles for purchase. There's no stopping this time. Quinn's fingers edge around her underwear and two of the digits plunge into her with barely any pause. Rachel is absolutely soaked so they slide in with little resistance, and she clenches around Quinn's fingers instinctively.

Quinn makes a little gasp behind her, but Rachel could care less at the double standard because her girlfriend is now moving her fingers, twisting and curling, and her palm is brushing against her clit. Quinn nips at the back of her neck and shoulders, leaving a wet trail from her tongue. Rachel finally manages to latch onto one of the shelves, and her fingers quickly turn white as she grips it in a desperate attempt to stay grounded. No sooner than she gives herself a sense of reality than she feels Quinn shift slightly behind her.

Quinn removals her hand from her breasts and hikes up Rachel's skirt completely around her hips. There's more movement, and Rachel feels the cotton of her girlfriend's dress brush against her. Then Quinn nudges one of her legs between hers before pressing against her. Rachel flushes in arousal at feeling Quinn's soaked panties on her ass cheek and takes a shaky breath as Quinn begins rubbing against her. The arm that isn't busy pumping in and out of her gets slung across Rachel's abdomen. Quinn uses her weight to hold her in place against the stacks while simultaneously pulling Rachel's ass against her.

Quinn picks up the pace, and it's all Rachel can do to hold on because those fingers and that body moving against her are driving her insane. But Quinn is relentless. Her fingers pump in and out in time with her grinding.

"Fuck," she groans as she feels Quinn shudder through the rhythm.

Rachel's clit pulses with every hit from Quinn's palm, and every time Quinn's fingers hit their apex inside her, the flames rise a little higher. She's a slave to her body's needs. Her muscles grow tense and she forgets how to breathe is it draws closer and closer and–

"Please," she chokes, lacking any control, any knowledge, but for Quinn and what she's doing to her.

Quinn grunts, and there's so much heat and slickness. So much everything. She aches, and burns, and then, finally, the world falls apart. She shakes and gasps, and tries to stay on her feet as pleasure roars through her body, arching her back and curling her fingers and toes.

Rachel can feel Quinn rubbing against her, but the movements are growing jerky and sloppy. She distantly hears Quinn's breath catch and feels her lock up behind her. Rachel quickly grabs her hand, hanging on to Quinn as she comes with a shuddering jolt that subsides into trembles.

And finally stillness.

They're quiet, leaning against each other and catching their breath. Quinn presses her lips gently against her cheek and slowly withdraws her hand, wiping it against her dress once it's free. Rachel sighs at the sudden emptiness, but turns around in Quinn's arms.

They readjust their clothes, huddling together in the quietness of the library. Rachel hums, content. She wraps her arm around Quinn's neck, bringing her into a brief kiss.

"That was...wow," Rachel says, as they separate.

Quinn smiles gently. "That huge lexicon of words you keep in your head and you go for 'wow?'"

"Shush," Rachel says, threading her fingers through Quinn's. "It accurately describes my sentiments."

"Maybe you need to study more?" Quinn says.

Rachel only barely stifles her laughter.


	2. Nightstick

**A/N:** Quinn wields a nightstick in a nontraditional manner. Faberry smut featuring police officer!Quinn.

* * *

Quinn fiddles with the patch on her sleeve while she waits. It hasn't even been a week since she was promoted to sergeant. The three blue stripes on her sleeve look intimidating. They give her authority. Some authority anyway. And she has always appreciated authority.

Some might say her career path is a little strange. Quinn Fabray in the NYPD? No, certainly not. Those who know her better might hesitate for a moment, and then nod their heads. Yes, that makes sense. Sue Sylvester didn't even need a pause when Quinn told her she was entering the New York Police Academy right after she graduated from Yale with degrees in literature and psychology. Instead, Sue told her she expected her to be Chief of the Department by the time she was 35. There was a reason Quinn was named Head Cheerio when she was only a sophomore. Because yes, Quinn has always enjoyed order, control, and authority. She also, as it happens, enjoys keeping people safe.

Even if sometimes she thinks the laws are asinine and out-dated and that some of her fellow officers corrupt.

But that's okay. With her promotion to sergeant just after three years of service, she's right on track to keep moving up the ranks, impressing the right people, and to, hopefully, ultimately make a difference. Even Sue might be proud. Quinn smirks at that thought, she can almost hear Sue scoffing in her head. You think being a NYPD sergeant at 25 is good? Try coaching consecutive national championship cheerleading teams full of whiny high school girls who'd rather sing and dance their feelings and then we'll talk!

"Quinn."

She comes out of her thoughts and spares a smile for the lean figure approaching her. "Hey Vince, how'd it go tonight."

"Impeccably of course. How bad is it out there?" Vince says, squinting at the door.

"Pretty packed," Quinn says with a bit of a grimace.

Vince sighs. "I'm just supporting cast. They're all here for Rachel or Carson anyway. You surprising her?"

"That's the plan. Just got off duty."

He smiles. "Nice. Alright, wish me luck!"

The door opens, and he's met with screams. Quinn catches a glance at the rowdy crowd of fans as the door shuts and winces. There were too many for her comfort when she arrived at the backdoor of theater just a few minutes ago. The security guard had very quickly let her inside, yelling at fans to remain orderly. Rachel has been making headline after headline, originating an iconic role for her musical smash hit. The crowd that gathers after every performance for autographs and pictures boasts impressive numbers. Quinn is thankful the theater has security to manage the crowd and keep Rachel at least a little bit safer.

Speaking of Rachel... Quinn does her best to hold back a smile as her girlfriend emerges from around a corner talking with her costar, Carson. She's engrossed in some topic, hands and arms moving animatedly. Quinn can tell the moment Rachel realizes that she's there. She continues talking, but her eyes brighten and her smile widens. Quinn's own heart picks up its pace at the sight of Rachel, and she does her best to fight the smile that plays at her lips.

Rachel concludes her story with a rapid burst of sentences and then launches herself into Quinn. "You should have come back to the dressing room!" Rachel says, pouting. "You didn't have to wait out here."

Quinn wraps her arms around Rachel's waist as her girlfriend takes off her hat with one hand and kisses her in greeting. Rachel lingers after the kiss ends. "I do so like you in this uniform," Rachel whispers lowly.

Quinn chuckles even as Rachel's hand slides down her body, coming to rest on her hip, just above her Glock pistol. "Even after three years. But I waited here because I figured you were almost ready to go given the time, and I didn't want to...distract. It's only been a couple of minutes, promise."

"Yes, well, I do like to make sure you're taken care of," Rachel says. She pulls back, scanning Quinn's form.

Quinn finds it both endearing and amusing that Rachel still checks her over for injuries every day once she gets off from work. Law enforcement is not Rachel's first choice of career for her because of the danger associated with it, but, regardless, her girlfriend remains very supportive. And Quinn is more than happy to satisfy Rachel's need to check for any on-the-job injuries. Plus, as it turns out, as Quinn has learned multiple times, Rachel really does appreciate the uniform, and it's not unusual for her once-overs to lead to something more.

"I'm fine. Promise," Quinn says. "Today was rather boring actually."

Rachel nods her head, gaze traveling back to meet Quinn's, obviously satisfied with her examination. "Maybe I can enliven your day a little when we get home?" she says lowly.

There's a cough, and then, "I'm still right here you know."

"Yes, thank you for that Carson," Rachel says dryly, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Quinn sends him an apologetic smile. "Let's all get out of here."

"How crazy is it out there?" Rachel asks.

Quinn hesitates answering, gritting her teeth together.

"Your face says it all," Carson says, chuckling.

Rachel nods, smiling. "That's okay. I will never take my fans for granted...even though I certainly wouldn't mind if things weren't so busy after every single show."

"Pens at the ready, Rachel!" Carson says. "And hey, at least you have your own security detail this time."

He pushes open the door outside and they're met with a wave of noise. He steps out, and Quinn can't help but wince at the screams of his name. Quinn takes her hat gently back from Rachel's hand and secures it on her head, low over her eyes, with a sharp tug. Rachel gives her a small smile and squeezes her hand before following Carson. Quinn quietly slips out after her, giving a nod to the two security guards. One watches from the door, and the other stands toward the end of the crowd-controlling, steel barricades that lead toward the street. Carson and Rachel are already working their way down the line, signing at every piece of paper, playbill, and more that gets thrusted toward them. There are flashes of camera lights, demands for pictures, and all the manner of strange questions thrown their way.

Quinn can't help but keep her hand resting on the nightstick strapped to her belt, opposite of her pistol. All the energy and demands directed toward Rachel by these strangers make her nervous. And some of these fans certainly seem to be lacking in their knowledge of personal space with their grabby hands and pushing against the barricades.

She's busy maintaining a hawk-eyed stare on Rachel, so she only distantly notices the clamor around Carson at first. But then Rachel is dropping her pen and jumping up the line toward him, and Quinn snarls at the sight she sees. Some fans-though she hesitates to call them that-have pushed aside the barricade and have yanked Carson into the crowd. He's a strong guy, a trained dancer, so they must have taken him by surprise.

She sprints, the security guards surging forward from either side with her. Rachel gets to the crowd surrounding Carson before she does, and all Quinn knows is that she wants Rachel as far away from there as possible. While she doesn't think Rachel's life is endangered, Quinn just wants her safe and an unruly group of fans does not constitute safe in her book-especially with how they're spilling around the barricade now.

"Let him go!" Rachel yells as pushes into the fray. "I swear! You let him go right now or I'll-"

"Rachel!" Quinn shouts as she lunges forward, trying to grab her. She misses, and Rachel gets lost inside the bodies. Quinn shoves her way through the people, her hat getting knocked from her head in the process, but she quickly forgets about it in her efforts to secure Rachel.

The security guards are beside her now. Their large bodies are doing a better job of drawing attention than her uniform at the moment, which makes Quinn seethe, but she has more than enough to worry about.

"You jackass!" comes Rachel's voice.

Quinn grits her teeth and then snarls, flashing her badge to a few of the people around her. "NYPD!" she shouts as loud as she can. That seems to earn attention from some, and, if nothing else, it gets people moving out of the way until she finally gets a clear line of vision to Rachel in the middle of everything

Rachel stands inches away from a fan who is probably twice her size, pointer finger leveled aggressively at him. Quinn bites back a scowl because Rachel looks like she's seconds away from physically assaulting him and that's the last thing her girlfriend's career needs. But then there's an unexpected twist low in Quinn's stomach. She takes in Rachel's fiery energy, her body exploding with purpose and indignation with wild hair and eyes, and Quinn's mouth goes dry. She shakes off the flush of warmth spreading through her body and dashes forward, shoving people out of the way until finally she's at Rachel's side again.

"Rachel," Quinn barks, grabbing her upper arm. Despite her voice, her touch is gentle and Rachel shrugs out of her grip, stepping forward into the fan's space, arms flailing. The fan she's yelling at has put his arms up, wide eyes trained on Quinn and her badge, and she gets a glimpse of Carson behind him, trying to gently extricate himself from the arms of some girl. Quinn's heart is pounding somewhere up in her throat because she just wants to get Rachel out of there, and she is not helping.

"Rachel!" Quinn shouts again, trying to grab hold of her.

And when Rachel ignores her and shakes out of her grasp, Quinn growls and reaches for her handcuffs.

* * *

Rachel barely registers the cool metal against her wrist.

This...this...this absolute lowlife had pushed her back when she tried to get to Carson. And all of this is driving her mad! She wants to give every single person here a piece of her mind because it's never okay to just yank someone around. Especially when they're doing something for you like signing autographs! You just don't invade other people's space period!

And so she finds her blood boiling hot and and a thundering in her ears and she's yelling but she's not even sure what words are spilling out of her mouth. She hates it when she loses her temper, but it's just all so-

Both arms get pulled behind her back, and she's feel metal snap around her other wrist. She growls toward the man in front of her, finding her arms restrained. And then she's being pulled away, hair falling into her face, and she doesn't really register what's happening until she's pushed roughly back through the theater door. The door closes behind her, and there is silence. Then Quinn takes up her vision, features cold and stern.

"Quinn! Let me go! This is completely unacceptable!" She yells because Quinn has her in handcuffs and everything that happened outside is still sending red hot rage through her veins.

"You're out of control, Rachel," Quinn says calmly, guiding her none too gently down the hallway and taking the turn toward her dressing room. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down? I am completely calm! It's those...those disreputable buffoons that are out of control," Rachel says, only vaguely aware that she's still shouting.

"Then stop fighting me," Quinn says.

"You put me in handcuffs Quinn!" Rachel snaps. "Those people could have hurt Carson! I was only trying to help him!"

"I get that," Quinn says cooly. "But you can't just jump into a crowd of people like that. And I put you in handcuffs to protect you from you."

"I hardly need protecting from myself Quinn Fabray! Get me out of these handcuffs!"

"You were out of control Rachel," Quinn says, stopping her in front of her dressing room. Quinn opens the door and gestures inside. "I'll let you out once you stop fighting me."

"You're despicable," Rachel says, before shrugging free of Quinn's grip and walking inside her dressing room with her head held high. Quinn follows, shutting the door behind her. "There," Rachel says shortly, standing in the middle of her own dressing room. "Release me."

But then Quinn is looking at her strangely, eyes raking over her body. She takes a slow step toward her, and Rachel realizes she's doing the exact same thing because Quinn in that uniform will never stop sending shivers down her spine.

"Quinn," Rachel commands, "get these handcuffs off me."

"I don't know if I want to now," Quinn says lowly. "I think you need to be properly sentenced."

Rachel swallows, but doesn't back down even as Quinn invades her space. "I think I need a reward for saving Carson's life."

"Saving his life? Really?" Quinn says. Rachel can tell she's trying to hold back a smile, and she's not quite sure when the mood changed so dramatically. But she stops thinking altogether when Quinn's voice lowers again "No, while your intentions may have been good, I think you need to be punished for acting out and putting yourself at risk."

Then Quinn is turning her, backing her up so that she's face-first against the door to her dressing room. Rachel's breath catches as Quinn presses against her and into her hands still locked behind her back. She thinks she should still be mad about everything that happened outside and about how difficult Quinn is being. Instead her heartbeat quickens for an entirely different reason accompanied by a rush of warmth spreading through her body. She can feel the seam of Quinn's zipper against her hands, and she can't help but twist her wrist, moving slightly to find the apex of her girlfriend's thighs with her fingers.

Then a hand is placed between her shoulder-blades, holding her against the door as Quinn puts their bodies at arm's length. "I don't think so," Quinn husks.

There's a slight pause between them. Just a moment of hesitation, as Quinn waits for any indication that Rachel wants her to stop.

She doesn't.

So Quinn continues, and Rachel tries to calm her already racing heart. Because Quinn has barely touched her yet, and because she should still be angry about...about...everything.

The hand between her shoulders moves. There's a rustle, and Rachel watches over her shoulder as Quinn kneels. Quinn's hands find her ankles and as both hands travel up either leg, Rachel realizes what she is doing.

"You're patting me down?" Rachel says with a swallow.

Quinn smirks up at her. "I have to check you for illegal substances and possible weapons."

"Quinn, really-" Rachel begins, turning from the door, but she doesn't finish because Quinn is quickly back at her full height and using her forearm to press her back against the door.

Rachel sucks in a shaky breath as Quinn leans in close, lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Really, Rachel, you're the one in handcuffs. Let me do my job."

Quinn's lips trail down from her ear, and though Rachel has a quip ready about how that is hardly standard procedure, the words get wiped from her mind as Quinn sucks at the skin where her neck meets shoulder.

Rachel aches to touch her, to turn around, and kiss her senseless, but Quinn has demonstrated that she is thoroughly in control right now. Rachel's panties are already uncomfortably damp because of it.

"No more talk," Quinn says firmly. There's a faint noise, and then Rachel feels something solid trail from her thigh to her hip. She turns her head, looking down, and swallows thickly at seeing the nightstick held casually in Quinn's grip. The baton, travels up her side, and then Quinn slides it across her body, underneath her breasts. Her girlfriend then pulls, and Rachel turns with it so that her back is now against the door.

She's met with Quinn, looking every inch the perfect officer in her crisp uniform, despite her messy bun. Rachel shifts, biting her lip to keep the whimper from escaping at the way she throbs with the stare leveled at her. Quinn steps forward, into her personal space, and a hand landing on the door just to the side of her head. Quinn doesn't take her eyes off of her even as Rachel sees her twirl the nightstick expertly with one hand out of her peripheral vision.

The nightstick lands gently at her hip, and Quinn kisses her neck again, leaving a wet trail from jaw to collarbone. Rachel shivers as Quinn guides the nightstick underneath her shirt. It's cool on her skin, but considering how warm she is at the moment that doesn't mean much.

Quinn bites at her collarbone, and Rachel lets the back of her head fall against the door, eyes closed because fuck her girlfriend has a talented mouth. Her hips tilt forward, searching for some kind of pressure to ease the throb. Quinn draws back almost as soon as her eyes close, however, taking the nightstick with her.

But any disappointment is stolen from her lips as Quinn kisses her fervently. The hand above the door comes to rest underneath her restrained arms to the small of her back, pulling their hips together. They stay lip-locked, Quinn sucking at her bottom lip, pressed as closely together as possible. Rachel wants to touch her so badly, to rumple that perfect uniform. The handcuffs are driving her insane-both because she's at Quinn's mercy and because she aches to touch her.

Quinn's hand leaves her back, fingertips trailing around to the hemline of her shirt before sliding up underneath and burning a trail to her breasts. Rachel can't help the moan that passes her lips as her girlfriend's hand finds and tweaks a nipple. Quinn uses the opportunity to slip her tongue into the kiss. Rachel yearns to make her feel as desperate and wanton as she does now. She battles back with her tongue, and Rachel can almost taste the moan Quinn is suppressing. She can't keep the smirk off her face when it's Quinn that pulls back from the kiss, panting.

But Quinn's eyes narrow, and then Rachel feels the nightstick again, leaving a blazing path as it travels from the outside of her thigh toward the inside along the hem of her skirt. Quinn jumps the nightstick from one leg to the other, pressing into the skin. Rachel follows the wordless command, spreading her legs a little wider.

"I'm so glad you're wearing a skirt right now," Quinn husks.

Rachel doesn't get a chance to ask why before the nightstick is pressing up between her thighs, coming to rest at a point where it just barely touches her damp underwear. Just enough that Rachel can feel its presence. Just enough that she throbs all the more.

There's another little pause, a shared moment between them, as Quinn waits for any indication of resistance. But Rachel's chest is heaving with want, and Quinn is...

"Fuck," Rachel groans, as Quinn presses the nightstick against her. She shifts forward almost immediately, desperate for some friction. She distantly hears Quinn take a shaky breath, but all Rachel knows is that her girlfriend is keeping the nightstick steady with two hands so she keeps rocking her hips into it. She can feel the edge of Quinn's fingers each time she moves, holding it close to her in order to keep it firmly in place with each shift of her hips. She trembles, heat running through her blood, eyes locked on Quinn's dark gaze.

"Not yet," Quinn commands.

Rachel wants to cry out her protest because she is so fucking close. But she stays as silent and still as she can, closing her eyes as Quinn pulls the nightstick back. It doesn't go far. Quinn keeps it pressed against the inside of her thigh as her hand replaces it. Rachel wants to melt into her as Quinn pulls her panties aside, fingers finding her clit and slowly stroking back and forth. Her legs are close to giving out as is; her muscles shaking with tension.

Then Rachel feels Quinn change her grip on the nightstick, and opens her eyes. She meets Quinn's stare just as the nightstick slides through her wet folds, penetrating in one quick motion that draws a high pitched moan from the back of her throat.

Quinn can't have slid it more than a couple of inches inside her, but Rachel's walls are clenching around what is there of their own accord. All she knows is that she's desperate for more, her hips arching forward as she leans back heavily against the door. Quinn shifts so that she is nearly straddling one of her legs, leaving room to work. She licks her lips, and Rachel hazily watches the muscles in her throat move as she swallows.

"Please, Quinn," Rachel begs. She burns with need.

And Quinn complies, sliding the nightstick further into her until Rachel practically writhes. Quinn's fingers leave her clit, and she feels her securely grip the nightstick against her. With the little bit of rationality still left in her mind, Rachel realizes Quinn is ensuring she will only penetrate just that far.

And then all rationality leaves her as Quinn begins pumping the nightstick in and out of her. Rachel is warm and dripping and completely at Quinn's mercy. Quinn's free hand slides around her, slipping between her back and handcuffed wrists to support her.

Rachel needs all the support she can get. The thrusts of the nightstick stay in rhythm as Quinn attacks her neck once more, teeth and tongue grazing her skin. She's certain her legs are going to give out as her body quivers with tension. The nightstick pounds into her deep again and again and again. And, with each pump in, Quinn's hand hits her clit. Rachel's hips rock with it, her body a slave to the pulsating pleasure.

And it's all building, and building, and burning, and throbbing more and more and more with each thrust inside her. Rachel forgets to breathe, her muscles tensing except for her walls which clench even harder around the nightstick. Her hips forget their rhythm and her head tips back.

"Quinn," she whimpers. And then she closes her eyes, her mouth parting, and she finally comes. Her back arches off even more from the door, her whole body shaking as the pleasure crashes through her. And Quinn keeps the nightstick moving, drawing it all out, until nothing is left and all Rachel can do is slump against her.

Quinn holds her steady as she gently removes the nightstick. Rachel shudders and sighs as it leaves her, resting her head against Quinn's shoulder.

"I'm never going to be able to look at a nightstick the same again," Rachel says softly. "Even if some police officer is brandishing one at me."

"I better be the only officer ever using one on you," Quinn says with a slight growl.

"Well, you're always welcome to reassert your authority with it on me again," Rachel says. She picks her head up, drawing back from Quinn's arms, and turning around. "Now, uncuff me because we're not leaving here till I've delivered some retribution."


	3. Stress Relief

**A/N:** Quinn has an impending exam. Rachel just wants to help.

* * *

Rachel just manages to catch the 9:00 p.m. train to New Haven Thursday night. It was a spur of the moment decision. She was supposed to leave tomorrow for her weekend stay, but it's been almost a month since she last saw Quinn. She can't wait any longer.

Sophomore year has kept them impossibly busy. The second year at NYADA is notoriously difficult. Combined with auditions and other career advancing opportunities she feels she has to take, Rachel has hardly had time to sleep. Quinn's fall and start of spring semester have been the same. Needless to say, academics at Yale are demanding, but Quinn's secret society has also been running her all over the place. Rachel is excited for her though. Last week, her girlfriend got to meet Hillary Clinton at a luncheon. Hillary Clinton! Rachel tried to tell her she had to wear a pantsuit. Quinn would have none of it though.

That's okay by Rachel—Quinn looks plenty sexy in a blazer and pencil skirt.

She knows she's being a little rash by rushing off to New Haven a day early. She's missing a class tomorrow, and Quinn has an exam in the morning. But Rachel has had otherwise perfect attendance, and she will be sure to stay out of Quinn's way until she finishes her exam—after an initial greeting of course. And once Quinn is done with her exam, they'll have a long weekend to relax together.

She finds herself growing increasingly excited with every mile that passes. She can't wait to see the look on Quinn's face when she knocks on her door. But more importantly, she'll finally get to see and touch Quinn again. She'll get to hold her girlfriend when she sleeps tonight. They may have only gone a month without seeing each other, but it feels like forever.

The train pulls to a stop in New Haven just before 11:00 p.m.. She rushes off the platform, practically sprinting past other travelers to get to the first taxi. She breathlessly gives directions to Quinn's dorm, and the driver gets her there in ten minutes as they, of course, hit every red light imaginable. She tips him something way too high, but she could really care less at this point as she can see the light emitting from Quinn's window.

It's only then that she really remembers Gabby, Quinn's roommate, and Rachel takes a frustrated breath at her self. It completely slipped her mind. They all get along just fine—this is Quinn's second year rooming with her after all—but Rachel generally thinks it's only respectful to give notice about any visitors. She knows that Gabby won't mind, but Rachel will still apologize extensively for her intrusion.

As her hesitation passes, she marches forward. Despite the hour, the campus is hardly dead. A number of students mill about within sight, and there's a faint beat of music in the distance. It's still quiet compared to what she's used, but it's a refreshing change from the lights and sounds of New York. At least for a few days. She knows the city will be calling back to her soon.

A pass is needed to get inside Quinn's dorm building, but Rachel conveniently reaches the door at the same as another student. She smiles benignly to show she means no harm, and after the other girl opens it, follows her inside. Rachel dashes up to the second floor with her bags, and then she's at Quinn's door.

It's cracked open, and Rachel bites back a smile, thinking of Quinn just inside. She shifts her bags to one hand and knocks on the door, opening it further. Quinn's sitting at her desk, back to her and headphones in place. Gabby is on her bed, laptop propped up in front of her.

Gabby notices her first. "Rachel, oh my god, what are you doing here!?" She shuts her laptop, and climbs off the bed, meeting her at the door to give her an enthusiastic hug. Gabby's always been the touchy type.

"Rachel?" Quinn says as she's released from the hug. Her eyes are wide with surprise, and a disbelieving smile plays at her lips.

"Hi Quinn," Rachel says softly as Gabby steps away.

Quinn gracefully rises to her feet, and for a moment Rachel thinks she's going to calmly walk over to her. But then it's as if she blinks, and Quinn has her arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

"It feels so good to hold you again," Quinn murmurs breathlessly into her ear.

And then Quinn's lips are against hers. It's warm and soft and oh how she missed feeling Quinn against her. She angles her head instinctively, catching Quinn's bottom lip between her own. The hands on her hips tighten, and Rachel finds herself pressed even more firmly against her.

"I know it's been awhile, but try to keep it PG please. Especially when I'm literally right here," Gabby says lightly, her voice cutting through the moment.

Rachel breaks off from the kiss, an embarrassed smile on her face. She looks away from the dark eyes and pretty blush dusting Quinn's cheeks to give her attention to Gabby. "I apologize. I honestly did not mean for you to have to witness that. We just got a little—"

"—carried away. I get it," Gabby says with a small chuckle. "Do you want me to find somewhere else to sleep tonight?"

"No! I'm not going to put you out like that when you had no knowledge of my visit," Rachel protests. "Plus, Quinn has her exam, and it really was a spur of the moment decision to take the train tonight instead of tomorrow."

"So you just couldn't wait any longer?" Quinn says, amused. She gently pulls Rachel against her side, keeping an arm around her waist. The hold betrays how endearing she finds that idea.

"No, I really couldn't," Rachel says honestly, meeting her gaze.

"I should thank you then Rachel. If I had to see Quinn moping about missing you for another day, I was going to lose it," Gabby says teasingly.

"I don't mope," Quinn says sharply.

"Of course not. You brood," Rachel says exchanging a glance with Gabby. They both laugh as Quinn gently rolls her eyes.

"Whatever. The fact is that you still came a day early just because you couldn't spend another day away from me," Quinn says. Regardless of her teasing tone, her eyes are warm and the arm she has around Rachel seems to pull her even closer.

"It's true. I hope you don't mind this little surprise," Rachel says.

"I really don't. I am so glad you're here. I just wish I didn't have this exam tomorrow," Quinn says sincerely.

Rachel is unable to keep the smile off her face at Quinn's words. "I'm going to stay out of your way and let you study. I forbid you from worrying about me right now."

"Tomorrow, I'll give you all the attention you can handle," Quinn says lightly as she pulls away, returning to her desk.

"I'm counting on it," Rachel responds coyly. "In the meantime, I have a little studying of my own I can do."

"And I will definitely be getting out of here tomorrow night," Gabby says. She cuts a smile toward them. "Considering you asked about Rachel staying last week, I've made enough plans that I'm pretty much fulfilling all my social obligations for the semester in one go this weekend."

"Thanks Gabby," Quinn says fondly.

"No problem. You'd do the same for me," Gabby says, settling back down onto her bed.

Rachel watches Quinn settle at her desk and finds herself unable to resist touching her once more. She wraps her arms around Quinn's shoulders from behind, leaning over her "Let me know if you need anything," she says.

Quinn smiles. "I will, but I'm fine. Promise. This was a wonderful surprise."

Rachel places a parting kiss to her temple and then moves away to give Quinn space to finish studying. She readies herself for bed, excusing herself to the hall bathroom for her nightly ritual. Once she returns, she settles herself in Quinn's single with one her textbooks, determined to get a little bit of work accomplished. But the bed is so comfortable and the sheets smell of Quinn so she finds her eyes drifting close instead.

She wakes to a dark room some indeterminable time later, feeling her textbook being slid out from underneath her hand.

"Quinn?" she says groggily. "What time is it?"

"A little after 1:30," Quinn responds quietly.

There's a few rustling noises and then Rachel feels the bed dip. Quinn slides in beside her, and Rachel adjusts to give her a little more room. But when she does, Quinn just pulls her back in so that Rachel is on her side and using her girlfriend's shoulder as a pillow. Rachel throws an arm around her, sliding her hand under Quinn's pajama top to feel the smooth, warm skin of her stomach.

"I've missed you. Skype really can't compare to this," Quinn whispers.

"It really can't," Rachel says, her sleepiness dissipating at feeling Quinn against her. She can't help the way her heartbeat quickens as her girlfriend's hand traces the skin at her hip.

They fall quiet, but Rachel finds herself unable to reclaim sleep. It's partly because Quinn is holding her again after so long, but mostly it's because the way Quinn seems to be unable to relax. She's tense. Rachel can feel it in the way she holds her, the way the muscles of her stomach flex under her hand, and the way the arm not wrapped around her fidgets at the hem of the sheet.

"Relax Quinn," Rachel says softly. "You need as much rest as possible for your exam tomorrow morning."

Quinn sighs. "I know. I just can't seem to stop worrying about it."

"You'll do great. Look at all that studying you poured into it!" Rachel says quickly. Also a little too loudly—Gabby turns in her bed across the room, a vague noise escaping from her throat.

"It's one thing to know I studied," Quinn whispers after a moment. "I'm just afraid it won't stick or that I studied the wrong thing. I…I just can't relax."

Rachel bites her bottom lip, her thoughts racing. Then she makes up her mind.

She leans up on her elbow, kissing Quinn's jaw, and she guides the hand already under her girlfriend's shirt up to her ribs. She traces the lines there, the strokes of her fingers slow and reverent. Her lips linger on Quinn's skin with each kiss and her thumb brushes the underside of her breasts.

"Rachel," Quinn says lowly, "what are you doing?"

"I am going to help you relax," Rachel says quietly as she kisses down from her jaw. She licks and nips her way to the pulse point, and Quinn shudders.

"What—" Quinn starts to say, but whatever she was going to say turns into a shaky inhale as Rachel sucks on the skin of her neck.

She pulls back before she leaves a bruise even though she aches to mark up Quinn's skin. She contents herself by pressing her lips over the spot in soft kiss. "Just let me take care of you right now," Rachel says lowly.

"What about Gabby?" Quinn says unevenly.

Rachel shifts under the sheet so that she just hovers over Quinn. She dips her head down, raking her teeth against her girlfriend's collarbone. She slips her tongue into the hollow of Quinn's throat, tasting the skin there before looking back up and whispering, "I guess you better do you best to remain quiet?"

"I'm rarely the loud one," Quinn hisses.

"True, but you occasionally can't help yourself either. And this time you better," Rachel says, stare heavy on her girlfriend. She wishes she could make out the flecks of green and gold in Quinn's eyes right now, but she can still tell through the light slipping through the blinds how dark and wanton that gaze is.

And then Quinn nods her head, and that's all the go ahead that Rachel needs.

Her lips reattach themselves to Quinn's neck, and she lets her fingers trace the soft skin of her breasts. Quinn arches into her hands, and Rachel can feel her own panties growing increasingly damp. She entwines their legs, so that she's straddling a thigh and her own is pressing into Quinn's center.

One of Quinn's hands fist itself into her hair as Rachel nips at that slender neck. Quinn pulls gently, just enough to signal where she wants her. Rachel complies, shifting upwards to meet her girlfriend in a kiss that burns through her and sends her stomach flipping over itself. It's not blistering or violently passionate, but rather a slow steady press of interlocking lips. It's an expression of love and yearning all on its own as their kiss continues, lips sliding perfectly together. Rachel slips her tongue into Quinn's mouth as she rubs her thumb over a nipple. She finds herself instinctively clenching her muscles as Quinn lets out the lightest of moans.

Rachel breaks from the kiss, looking down at her. "That's not being quiet Quinn."

"You're not being quiet either," Quinn whispers.

"Just shush and relax," Rachel says. She's unwilling to tease Quinn too much with the exam hanging over her—this is about taking care of her girlfriend right now. And Rachel would only be kidding herself if it weren't also a little bit about her craving to touch Quinn after all this time either.

She presses her lips against Quinn's again, silencing any further protest. It quickly evolves to an exchange of messy, open-mouthed kisses, tongues brushing against teeth and lips and each other. She runs her fingers back over one of Quinn's nipples, reveling in the stiff bud. Rachel rolls it between her fingers and then tweaks it. Quinn's breath hitches in their kiss and her hands latch onto her hips. Rachel rocks her body, pressing her thigh more into her. She trembles at feeling the friction from Quinn's thigh against her clit and the way the hands on her hips curve around to gently grope her ass.

She can't help but pick up the pace of her hips, and she separates from the kiss with a gasp. She rubs more forcefully, her blood running hot. Quinn's head tilts back, brow furrowed and mouth open. Rachel keeps rocking, the bed creaking with the movement and then—

"—stop," comes Gabby's voice from across the room.

Rachel freezes, heart pounding and cheeks growing warm. How could she just forget like that? She's embarrassed, and she knows Quinn well enough that she can see the mortification in her gaze.

"No more…puppies," Gabby says, followed by a rustle of sheets and then silence.

"Oh my god," Quinn mouths, a hand going over her eyes.

Rachel collapses downwards onto her, an embarrassed giggled slipping out of her mouth.

"It's not funny," Quinn hisses.

"Okay, it really isn't," Rachel amends softly, growing serious.

"I'm never going to be able to fall asleep now," Quinn says quietly.

Rachel runs a hand down her arm, taking her hand in hers. "Yes you will," she whispers. "That was my fault. I got carried away. Let me try again. I love you Quinn, and I just want to look after you."

Rachel watches her lick her lips in indecision as she waits patiently for answer. She'll be happy to follow whatever makes Quinn happy, but she can't deny that her heart races when Quinn bites her bottom lip and nods her head.

There won't be anymore teasing and Rachel will be sure to keep the risks of getting caught minimal. She'll show Quinn how much she missed her, and she'll make her forget all about the impending exam. So Rachel kisses her with gentle purpose, letting go of her hand so she can reach back up under her pajama shirt. She keeps the pace slow, leisurely rubbing her hand up and down Quinn's abs before traveling back up once again to her breasts. She palms them both individually before taking a nipple between her fingers. For a third time that night, Quinn's breath catches at that action, and, for a third time, it sends a flush of desire through Rachel's body.

She breaks from their kiss and presses her lips down Quinn's jaw, neck, and chest until she gets to the hem of her shirt. Rachel sends her hand back down Quinn's ribs and stomach, removing it from underneath her shirt. Hand now free, she grabs the low neckline keeping her from Quinn's breasts. She has never been so grateful for such soft, loose material as she is able to pull it down just under one of her breasts to expose a hard nipple. Rachel kisses down to it, and breathes over it just long enough for Quinn to writhe in anticipation.

Then she tongues the nipple with a simple flick, and Quinn's back arches. Feeling her girlfriend curve into her and her hand come to the back of her head, fingers delving into hair, all Rachel can do is take it into her mouth. She lets go of the pajama shirt as she swirls and flicks her tongue over the nipple, trusting the material to stay out the way as she eases her hand down to the waistband of Quinn's pajama shorts.

Quinn seems to stop breathing as her fingers slide underneath the material of her shorts and panties. Rachel can't help a shaky breath as she dips low enough to meet the warm wetness between her girlfriend's legs. Quinn releases her own breath with a shudder of her body at the first touch of Rachel's fingers to her clit.

Rachel wishes she could remove all the clothes between them. Quinn's body is gorgeous—smooth lines of lithe muscle and full curves and beautiful scars. But she hazily thinks of Gabby across the room, realizing how close they were to getting caught earlier, and contents herself with touch. And it's indescribable—being able to feel Quinn again. Her fingers travel through Quinn's folds with practiced, loving strokes. Digits slick and wet, Rachel is suddenly overcome with the desire to remove her hand and taste Quinn on her fingers. She squashes the want. She'll have all weekend to explore her girlfriend's body all over again. For now, she dips two fingers inside of her, heart pounding as Quinn clenches around her.

She starts sliding in and out slowly, and Quinn whimpers. Rachel leans up higher, propping her weight on the arm not busy drawing those kinds of reactions from her girlfriend. Even though it means leaving Quinn's breasts behind, Rachel is able to watch the expressions play across her face as she picks up speed. Quinn brings a hand up over her mouth, no doubt determined to keep silent after what happened earlier. Rachel wishes they could forget Gabby altogether, but she knows her patience will be rewarded tomorrow when Quinn's exam is over and they're left alone in the dorm. She's happy to help Quinn forget the stress waiting for her in the morning at the moment.

She keeps pumping, the palm of her hand gently pressing against Quinn's clit with each flex of her wrist. The sleep shorts restrict her movement some, but Rachel Berry is nothing if not persistent.

Quinn's other hand has found its way to the back of her neck, gripping it tightly. She shudders and tenses, and Rachel knows she's close. She also knows the best way to send Quinn over the edge is to focus on her clit. So she slides in one final time, curling her fingers inside of her, and the hand on the back of her neck tightens almost painfully. She slides back out, and Quinn's grip momentarily eases. But then Rachel's traveling up her soaked folds, back to her clit, and setting a swift pace.

Quinn's right leg starts shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes squeeze shut. Rachel rubs her fingers over her clit again and again, and Quinn's hips rock with her pace. Her arm burns, but she only notices distantly. Then the trembling stops, Quinn's body stiffens and her head tilts back even further. Her hand falls from her mouth to the bed, and Rachel's gaze flicks to where Quinn's hand furiously grips the sheets.

Everything seems to slow as Quinn comes undone. Rachel's heart is somewhere in her throat as she watches her girlfriend ride out the pleasure. Quinn shudders violently, back arching off the bed. A soft, breathy moan slips from her parted lips. And oh god how Rachel missed this—Quinn is absolutely beautiful.

And when Quinn comes down from her high, there is not the slightest hint of disturbance from across the room.

Quinn pulls her down into her arms, kissing her briefly. She sighs contentedly after they separate, head lolling back onto her pillow. Rachel's own body aches, her panties damp, but she pushes away the flush of need. She has all weekend to look forward to.

"I love you," Quinn whispers lazily after a moment. "And I'll definitely be taking a turn tomorrow."

"I don't doubt you will," Rachel says. "But now is the time for sleep. Relaxed?"

Quinn makes a noise of affirmation. "Thank you," she says, and then her voice grows concerned. "You don't think Gabby woke up do you?"

Rachel smiles because she can just hear Gabby's soft snores. "I think we're okay. Get some rest Quinn. I love you."

Sleep follows for Quinn shortly afterwards. Rachel falls into its dark embrace not too long later with the even rhythm of Quinn's breathing. She wakes in the morning as Quinn gets ready to leave for her exam. Gabby is still in bed across the room, chatting softly with Quinn.

Rachel catches Quinn's eyes, and her heart grows warm at the soft smile directed toward her. Quinn takes the few steps to her, bending down to place a kiss against her forehead.

"Good morning," Quinn says as she straightens.

"Morning," Rachel yawns. "Did you sleep okay?"

Quinn's eyes cut across to Gabby's side of the room before coming back to Rachel. "Yes, yes I did. Did you?"

"Ugh, too much sap before noon," Gabby says, interrupting them. "Go take your exam already Quinn."

Rachel is unable to bite back her smile. "Good luck Quinn. I know you'll do wonderfully."

A blush appears on Quinn's cheeks, and Rachel only just manages to keep herself from laughing as Quinn practically flies from the room.


	4. Driver's Seat

**A/N:** Rachel picks Quinn up from the airport after a semester spent studying abroad. They struggle with keeping their hands off each other.

* * *

Rachel arrives half an hour before Quinn's plane is set to touch down on the tarmac. She couldn't really help leaving her fathers' home in Lima early. She hasn't seen Quinn in person in almost five months.

Now she waits inside the Columbus airport, anxious for Quinn to finally arrive home from the spring semester she spent studying abroad in the Yale-in-London program. By all accounts from their Skype dates and emails, Quinn had a fantastic time. Rachel's glad her girlfriend had an amazing study abroad experience, but she's more than ready to have Quinn by her side again-or at least on the same coast.

Quinn sent her a text right before boarding, telling her that her connection from JFK to Columbus was going to be on time. Rachel keeps herself preoccupied by watching the other people lingering near the terminal exit meet their loved ones, knowing that soon that will be her and Quinn. She still finds herself frequently checking the "Arrivals" screen, and when the status of Quinn's flight changes from "on-time" to "landed," Rachel smiles. A moment later, her phone buzzes and her smile widens even more as she reads the text from Quinn. "Just landed, see you in a minute."

Of course it takes more than a minute for Quinn to make it to the terminal exit. Deboarding always takes longer than expected. But then, finally, Quinn appears. She's in jeans and a cardigan-comfortable travel clothes-with her hair a little mussed and her eyes a little tired from hours spent on a plane. To Rachel, she's still the most beautiful person in the world, and as she watches Quinn's eyes light up in recognition she forgets to breath. Then Rachel is dashing forward, and Quinn is dropping her carryon to the ground, and finally, finally, she's in her girlfriend's arms again.

She buries her face into Quinn's neck, pulling their bodies together as tightly as possible. It's both a wonderful relief and perfect fulfillment to be touching Quinn again.

"I probably stink from sitting on a plane for hours," Quinn says quietly into their embrace.

"I don't care. All I know is that you're here," Rachel replies. Truthfully, Quinn doesn't smell at all.

"God I missed you so much," Quinn exhales.

Rachel picks her head up from Quinn's shoulder and arches forward, pressing their lips together for their first kiss in five months. It feels just as it always did. Soft, heated, and right.

Rachel pulls her closer, unwilling to let Quinn go when it's been so long-no matter that they are in public. And when Quinn catches her bottom lip between her own, Rachel sighs, tightly gripping her girlfriend's cardigan. She's missed this. She's missed Quinn.

They break apart slightly, and Rachel opens her eyes to find dark hazel staring back at her. The corners of Quinn's lips turn upwards and Rachel can't help but claim another quick kiss at the sight of her smile.

"Shall we get your bags?" Rachel says, finally releasing Quinn from her hold. She refuses to let go of Quinn completely, however, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers. Quinn squeezes her hand back before turning around to see her carryon bag a good twenty feet away. She looks back toward her, demurely saying, "I didn't realize I dropped it so far away."

"I didn't either," Rachel says with amusement as they walk toward it. She brushes Quinn aside when they get to it and grabs the bag herself.

"Rachel come on, I can take it."

"No, I insist. You look tired."

"I've been on a plane all day. I promise I'm not physically incapable," Quinn says casually before leaning in and saying lowly, "And I am more than looking forward to showing you that as soon as we get home."

A shiver of anticipation runs down Rachel's spine, and she does her best to ignore Quinn's smirk-and her own reaction-by gripping the carryon all the harder.

They end up having to wait about ten minutes before the first piece of luggage from Quinn's flight ends up on the carousel in baggage claim. Rachel doesn't mind the wait though. Whether if it's an arm around her shoulders or waist, a loose handhold, or a palm against the small of her back, Quinn can't seem to keep her hands off her. Rachel is certainly not complaining, and she's not any better about it either.

Quinn grabs her own bag this time-only because Rachel isn't sure which piece of luggage is her girlfriend's though-and refuses to relinquish it. They make their way out to the car, talking easily about Quinn's semester abroad. Rachel pops the trunk, loading up Quinn's carryon. She reaches out for Quinn's very large piece of luggage, and her girlfriend raises an eyebrow, saying, "I'm pretty sure it weighs as much as you."

"I can handle it," Rachel huffs.

Quinn suppresses a smile, pulling the rolling luggage forward. "Alright."

Rachel sizes it up and seizes it with two hands. With a grunt of exertion, she gets the bag lifted into the trunk. She exhales in relief as it slides into place and closes the trunk of her car. She turns around only to find herself being pressed against her car as Quinn steps into her.

"I handled it," Rachel says, smiling. Her hands come to rest on her girlfriend's face as Quinn leans.

"You did," Quinn grins.

And then Rachel is kissing her, nipping at Quinn's bottom lip before slipping her tongue into her mouth. Her girlfriend makes a noise of approval, but it's Rachel that's left gasping when Quinn angles a thigh between her own, grateful for the loose skirt she wore today. Feeling all of Quinn against her after so long...Rachel can't stop her hands from the from running under her cardigan, feeling ribs and stomach through the thin cotton of her shirt underneath. As Quinn presses into her more, Rachel curves her hands around hips to her girlfriend's ass for encouragement. The trunk of her car digs into her back and she can hear the sound of traffic and people all around them, but Rachel could care less as their kiss only grows deeper.

But just as she thinks more, Quinn breaks apart from their kiss. Her girlfriend leans her forehead against hers, and as Rachel struggles to catch her breath, Quinn whispers, "I need you." Warmth flares somewhere below her stomach, and Rachel forgets to breathe all over again.

She buries her face into Quinn's neck to buy herself a moment. She runs her hand across Quinn's back, trying to calm her racing heart and stop the throbbing between her legs. She lifts her head back up after a moment, taking Quinn's hands in her own. "On condition of being the one to pick you up, I promised your mother I would have you home to her as soon as possible."

Quinn makes a face. "I was hoping to have some time alone with you as soon as we got home."

"We will have later," Rachel says as neutrally as she can. "Besides, your mother-"

"-I am looking forward to seeing her," Quinn says hurriedly before sighing. "I just want you. Now."

"Later. You're not making this easy," Rachel says, resting her forehead on Quinn's shoulder. She pulls back, gently pushing Quinn away. "Now get in the car. And I promise. Later."

Quinn half-smiles at her before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss. "Fine," she says playfully.

They finally get on the road, and thankfully the traffic has lightened up quite a bit in comparison to the rush hour Columbus traffic she experienced driving to the airport. Before long, they're cruising through Ohio along a lonely stretch of Route 33. Conversation picks back up about Quinn's semester abroad and Rachel asks her about the things she'll miss in London.

"I am glad I did it, and I'll certainly miss things about it. But there were many things I missed about being here though," Quinn says casually.

"Like what if I may ask?"

"Like you," Quinn answers and Rachel has to use all her willpower not to take her eyes off the road. And she has to find even more when she feels Quinn's hand settle on her thigh.

Rachel clears her throat as Quinn plays with the hem of her skirt. "You already said you missed me, Quinn. I was asking about other things."

There's a brief moment of silence and then Quinn is leaning over the center console. "I missed your hand on mine and your arms around me. I missed the way you kissed me."

"Those things still count as me. That was hardly what I was going for," Rachel says.

Quinn ignores her, running her hand from the skirt to the exposed skin on the lower half of her thigh. Her girlfriend's touch is cool and dry and very much purposeful. Rachel can feel the heat in Quinn's words and where her hand meets her thigh as she continues. "I missed your touch. The way you'd dig your fingers into my skin."

Here, Quinn squeezes her thigh, before slowly-so, so slowly-trailing her fingers upwards. Rachel takes a steadying breath as they meet the hem of her skirt and begin hiking it upwards.

"I missed the way your eyes would close and the way your lips would part. I missed the feel of your skin against mine and the way your body fits against me. I missed your smile and the way your eyes light up in excitement. But I also missed your thighs and your abs and your breasts."

Quinn's hand travels ever higher, until her skirt is almost up to her hips. Rachel struggles to keep her breathing even as she can't help but spread her legs a little wider. She keeps her eyes deadlocked on the empty road.

"I missed the way your hips arch up into me," Quinn says lowly. "I missed your breathy moans. I missed the way you feel."

As Quinn's fingers graze her panties, Rachel grips the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white.

"I missed how wet and hot you'd get for me," Quinn husks.

Though Rachel keeps her arms locked in order to keep her car from drifting out of her lane, her foot slips off the gas peddle. She can't keep a moan at bay any longer as Quinn's fingers slide through her folds and find her clit.

"I missed burying my fingers into you," Quinn whispers.

Rachel resists sinking into her seat in order to grant her girlfriend better access as Quinn's fingers travel from her clit to her entrance. And when two fingers slide slowly inside her, Rachel quivers.

"I missed the way you taste," Quinn murmurs.

Just as easily as her girlfriend slipped her fingers into her, Rachel is left empty as Quinn withdraws completely. She watches out of her peripheral vision as Quinn brings those two fingers to her lip. Her girlfriend's lips part, there's a slip of a tongue, and then Quinn's mouth closes around the fingers that were just insider her.

Rachel throbs.

"Fuck, Quinn," she breathes, and she makes a split second decision.

She takes the exit ramp bearing down upon them. Driving up to a stop sign and an empty rode in the twilight of the evening. She travels no further than a quarter of a mile, just behind a bend in the road around oak trees. She quickly pulls over onto the shoulder, and in one swift motion, puts her car in park, unbuckles her seatbelt, and throws herself across her center console just as Quinn gets her own seatbelt undone.

Rachel brings their lips together in a bruising kiss as she struggles to get the rest of her body to the passenger side of her car and on top of her girlfriend. Quinn helps, hands going to her hips and ass, pulling her on top. Rachel finally gets her weight on top of Quinn, straddling her lap. She nips as Quinn's bottom lip before thrusting her tongue into her girlfriend's mouth. One of Quinn's hands comes up to her head, fisting her hair in a gentle grip, but Rachel breaks from the kiss even as she does.

Rachel kisses her way down her girlfriend's mouth to her jaw and then neck. She fumbles with one of her hands, trying to find the switch to lower the seat. Her other hand she snakes up underneath Quinn's shirt, greedily touching the skin of her girlfriend's stomach and ribs before finding her breasts. She ignores the bra entirely, yanking it aside to bring her hand to one of Quinn's nipples. She pinches it gently between her thumb and forefinger before pulling slightly. Quinn's gasping breath in response sends a shiver down her spine.

She finally finds the button to lower the seat, giving her a bit more room to work with as it lowers fully back. Quinn doesn't let the change of position stop her, working her hands up under her skirt and along the backs of her thighs to her ass. Rachel leans over her, moving her legs to slip one between Quinn's thighs. She presses her thigh into the seam of her jeans, hoping that will earn a reaction.

It does.

Quinn's breath hitches, and the hands on Rachel's ass squeeze and pull her closer. Rachel shifts into her, pushing her thigh into the warm juncture between her girlfriend's legs. She locks eyes with Quinn, feeling the warmth spike below her stomach at the half-hooded hazel eyes. Rachel keeps her hips moving as best as she can given the confines of the car by propping her weight up with one hand on the seat near Quinn's shoulder. She keeps the other still under Quinn's shirt, alternating between nipples. She keeps the rhythmic rock of her thigh going, up and down slightly, and just barely forward and back, working the seam of Quinn's jeans into her.

The way Quinn's head tips back, the way her hands frantically travel from ass to hips and back again all the while trying to direct the movement of the thigh between her legs, lets Rachel know just how close she is.

"No," Rachel says, forcing herself to still.

Quinn keeps moving her hips into her thigh, however, up and down, and Rachel's body pulses with it's own need because it's so fucking sexy. Rachel bites her lip and almost regretfully grabs Quinn's hips, pressing her down into the seat to stop her from moving.

"No," she says again.

"Rachel-" Quinn begins.

"I missed touching you," Rachel says interrupting her. She moves her other leg, bringing it between Quinn's so that her body is between her girlfriend's spread thighs. She quickly starts unbuttoning Quinn's jeans.

"I missed touching you," she repeats.

"I missed tasting you," she says, drawing the zipper of the jeans down.

"I missed feeling you," she says as her hand slips under Quinn's panties.

She slides her hands between Quinn's legs, sighing at the soft, wet heat she finds there. "I missed fucking you and loving you and being with you."

Quinn whimpers and her eyes close as Rachel begins to rub at her clit with those last couple of words. She uses her other hand to brush away some hair that had fallen into Quinn's face and gently cups her cheek. Quinn's eyes open just enough for Rachel to see how dark and uninhibited they are. She brings her hand away and settles it down between Quinn's thighs to join her other hand. Except this hand, she brushes past her other one to slip it further below and immediately penetrating with a single finger. Quinn is so wet, she slides in with no resistance and immediately adds a second finger.

Rachel picks up the pace at Quinn's clit even as she starts to pump her fingers in and out of her. One of her girlfriend's hands grip the wrist of the hand she has at her clit, while the other keeps a tight grip around her hip. Quinn's hips buck into her, and Rachel struggles to keep her pace steady. Her fingers pound in and out of her girlfriend, and Quinn's walls clench around her with each thrust. She can feel Quinn's muscles stiffen even as her arms start to burn from their efforts. The little bit of discomfort doesn't matter, Rachel wants nothing more in the world to have Quinn come.

And then Quinn does. Her back arching as she trembles, and a wordless cry passing her lips. Rachel draws it as as long as possible, until Quinn gently pulls the hand at her clit away. She pulls her fingers out of her girlfriend gently, bringing them to her lips much like Quinn did earlier.

Quinn watches her with hazy, wanton eyes even as she catches her breath. Rachel expects her to take a few moments longer to recover, so she takes her time licking and sucking her girlfriend's come off her fingers, keeping eye contact with Quinn the entire time she does so.

She's taken by surprise as Quinn sits up abruptly, arms coming around her waist and then underneath her thighs. Quinn pulls her legs around her hips, her skirt already hiked up so that it's just her panties between her and Quinn's stomach.

"Your turn," Quinn growls.

Rachel feels heat swell through her, swallowing thickly as Quinn wastes no time, attacking the part of her exposed collarbone. Quinn's hands find her breasts over the top of her shirt, but they don't linger there for long. Rachel can't help flexing her abs in tension as Quinn's hands ghost underneath her blouse up to her breasts. But even once Quinn finds her nipples, one for each hand, she only stays for a moment, before smoothing back down her skin toward her hips.

Rachel wishes she was embarrased at the way she rocks her core into Quinn's middle, but she's long since past having any concerns except release from her girlfriend's touch. And finally, Quinn's hands travel up her skirt, pulling aside her panties roughly. Rachel gasps as Quinn sinks her fingers inside her again while her thumb comes to rest on her clit. Quinn's other arm wraps around her waist, holding her steady as she starts pumping her fingers in and out of her. Rachel meets her thrust with her hips, trying to deepen how far and hard Quinn lands inside her.

Quinn keeps her thumb running tight circles over her clit, and the combination of the two soon has her panting. She grips tightly around Quinn, rocking with her. The pressure build and builds, she claws at Quinn's back drawing her closer. She grits her teeth, closing her eyes as the knot below her stomach grows tighter and tighter until finally...

It bubbles over, pleasure sweeping through her veins, and she shakes violently into Quinn just barely aware of the breathy "fuck" that passes her lips. She slumps down into Quinn as the last tremor passes through her. She clutches her close to her, unwilling to let go or let Quinn's fingers slip out from her yet. Eventually though, she draws back, and slowly those fingers pull out of her. She misses them almost as soon as their gone.

But Quinn brings her arms around her and slowly leans back with her until she's resting comfortably against the seat. Rachel nestles on top of her, resting her head on her shoulder.

She feels Quinn's heartbeat beneath her and takes in the half-light of the darkening day outside the car. "I'm so glad you're home," Rachel says.

"Me too," Quinn whispers, stroking her hair.

"I'm also very, very pleased that we took a pit stop," Rachel says lightly.

Quinn laughs. "Me too."


	5. Dressing Room

**A/N:** Rachel needs a new dress, and Quinn can't keep her hands to herself. No matter the fact that they are in public.

* * *

Rachel needs a dress.

Never mind that she's supposed to be on a budget after her post-Christmas splurge. In her defense, she couldn't just walk away from those kind of sales! Kurt understood. Her fathers? Much less so. So yes, she's on a budget, but she really does need a dress. The party next Saturday isn't just any occasion, after all. The dress has to be perfect. Not too casual. Not too formal. Kind of sexy without overdoing it.

"You're really over thinking this," Quinn says amiably as they walk into their seventh store of the day.

"I want to impress your not so secret society," Rachel says.

"You've met a number of the girls before," Quinn says.

"Right, but not during an alumni social and not all of them. I know how important this group is to you," Rachel says, pausing in between two display tables of clothes to turn to Quinn. She runs a hand down her girlfriend's arm before tangling their fingers together. "Besides, you yourself said it's very possible that Jodie Foster and other notable alum may make an appearance. Jodie Foster, Quinn."

Quinn raises an amused eyebrow.

Rachel smiles before snaking her free hand around the back of Quinn's neck and pushing herself forward in order to land a brief kiss. She parts with a sigh and settles back on to her heels before saying, "Really, I want to make a good impression. I don't have the best track record with these things, and I don't want to embarrass you."

"You'll never embarrass me," Quinn says. "But if it'll make you feel better then, like I said, I'm happy to help you find a dress. Even if that's not quite what I imagined we'd be spending all of today doing when I told you I'd be visiting you this weekend. Not that I don't enjoy spending whatever time I can with you, but we are on our seventh store."

"I'll make it up to you later," Rachel says coyly, squeezing Quinn's hand before letting go. She turns around, confident that she left Quinn with just the impression that she wanted. Now, about that dress...

She finds one she wants to try on. Just one. But she loves it on the display. It's navy and knee length with thick straps over the shoulders. The store has it paired with a thin brown leather belt that clinches around the waist in order to accentuate the curves of its wearer. To her dismay, the belt does come separate on the already hefty price of the dress.

There's just one left in her size though, and clearly that means it's meant to be.

Of course she'll try it on to be sure.

"Just that one?" Quinn asks.

"Yes, this one. Could you grab one of those belts for me? Like the one on the mannequin," Rachel says, pointing to where the belts have been neatly looped for display on a table behind Quinn.

"Please?" Quinn smirks.

Rachel purses her lips in faux annoyance. "Quinn, would you please grab one of those belts for me?"

"Only because you asked so nicely," Quinn says before grabbing one and stepping forward. She slides past, and as she does, she playfully swats her rear with the belt before Rachel can stop her.

"Quinn, save that kind of behavior for the bedroom. This store demands a certain amount decorum," Rachel says, unable to stop her smile this time despite her attempt to sound stern.

"Oh? That's something you want in the bedroom?" Quinn says coyly.

Rachel's mouth drops open. She takes a breath, readying a retort, only for a sales associate to swoop in beside her.

"Can I open up a dressing room for you?" the associate asks politely.

"I...uh...yes," Rachel says. She's more flustered because of the worker's timing than anything, but she clears her throat and tries again. "I mean, actually, I am ready to try it on."

"Great! Follow me, and we'll get you set up in one of our dressing rooms," the associate says with a bright smile and then holds her hands out, gesturing for the dress.

Rachel is certain her face is still red, but she hands off the dress to the sales associate and dutifully follows her to the dressing rooms. They're moderately full. A few rooms are open, and people are coming and going with their arms more or less full of clothes. The associate unlocks one of the rooms and steps inside, hanging the dress up on the metal bar that stretches the length of the left wall. Rachel steps inside as soon as the associate exits and does her best to avoid looking at Quinn's triumphant smirk as she closes the door behind her. The sales associate gives her a cheery "let us know if you need anything" before Rachel hears her walk away, heels clicking on the floor.

Rachel starts to undress for the umpteenth time that day, beginning with her shoes, and she can practically feel Quinn's smirk on the other side of the dressing room door. She gives the door a pointed look despite knowing Quinn wouldn't be able to feel, much less see, the gentle exasperation she's trying to convey. As she does, she spots the shadow and then the feet of her girlfriend underneath the door.

"Forgetting something?" Quinn says lightly.

Rachel pulls her shirt over her head and throws it over the bar her dress is hanging from. Left in her skirt and bra, she makes a face at the mirror as she tries to remember what Quinn could be talking about. Then it hits her. "Oh!" she exclaims. "Right! The belt."

"You want to let me in?" Quinn asks.

"If I must," Rachel says.

"What does that even mean?" Quinn asks amusedly.

"It means that you better behave yourself," Rachel says as she unlocks and opens the door.

"I always behave myself," Quinn says as she slips inside the dressing room, belt in hand.

Heat blossoms in her when she catches Quinn's gaze slipping down over her body before coming back to her face, but she keeps her voice cool and steady. "Hardly. Your behavior out there being one such example."

"May I remind you that you were the first to be all coquettish with your 'I'll make it up to you later,'" Quinn says lowly.

"That was a completely innocent statement!" Rachel says in faux-protest.

"Was it now?" Quinn says, taking a step forward. "As was your 'save that behavior for the bedroom?'"

"That was," Rachel swallows, as Quinn backs her against the dressing room wall, "maybe a little less innocent."

"And while I'm fairly certain you're not quite into spanking, I can think of another way to use this belt," Quinn says lowly.

Before Rachel can respond, Quinn steps completely into her space. Rachel closes her eyes as her girlfriend leans in, expecting a kiss, but she feels only the faintest brush of lips against hers followed by smooth skin pressed against her cheek. She shivers as she feels Quinn's hot breath against her ear. And then her girlfriend presses her hips into her, grabbing her wrists and raising them back against the wall. Quinn still has the belt in one of her hands, but that hardly matters as Rachel is effectively pinned between her girlfriend's body and the wall.

And the belt is the last thing on her mind when Quinn whispers into her ear, "And I don't want to wait until we're in the bedroom."

Rachel's stomach twists and she's certain that with just those few words her panties are now absolutely soaked. She arches into Quinn, unable to help herself despite being very aware that they have very little privacy. She can hear the bustle and noise of the store moving around them-dressing room doors opening and closing, voices of customers and workers alike, and the pump of alternative rock music playing over the store's speakers. But that doesn't stop Quinn as she pulls back slightly and Rachel finds her arms being raised a little higher until they are just above her head. It's only as she feels the cool leather of the belt wrap around her wrists that she processes what Quinn is doing.

"Quinn," Rachel says. It comes out low and husky, which was not what she was going for, so Rachel takes a breath, clears her throat, and tries again. "Quinn," she manages to say pointedly this time, "are you tying me up in the dressing room?"

She has to bite back a giggle at the absurdity of the statement even though she now wants nothing more than Quinn's touch regardless of their limited privacy.

"Yes, I'm using this belt, but not in the way you were originally thinking," Quinn says.

"Quinn! We are in a dressing room!" Rachel says. She plays incredulous even as she shudders in anticipation of what's to come. She knows she can stop Quinn with a simple "no" if she wants to, but now? She most definitely doesn't want to and that is all it takes to let the last bit of rationality go.

Rachel gives an experimental tug against the belt as Quinn finishes. It's loose. The belt is pliant, but not that pliant. Plus the bar she's tied to isn't the sturdiest. That's beyond the point though. She's bound in a dressing room, arms raised above her head, while her girlfriend's dark eyes rake over her form. She feels exposed. Vulnerable. But with her trust in Quinn, she also feels safe. Those should be dichotomous feelings. Instead, the effect only increases the flush of warm and the beat of her pulse at already knowing that her girlfriend, her beautiful, beautiful girlfriend, wants her. Right now.

So she swallows hard as Quinn's hands travel the length of her arms, against the sides of her breasts, down her ribs, and to her hips. Then Quinn smirks. It's a powerful and sexy and oh so slightly evil. And the only thing keeping Rachel from begging-asking-Quinn to kiss her, to touch her, to take her is her pride. She plans to hold on to that for the moment even though she knows she not above ignoring it if the circumstances are particularly ...demanding.

Quinn's hands travel to the small of her back and then down over her ass. She grabs, pulling her lower half away from the dressing room wall and pressing their hips flush together. Quinn practically purrs into Rachel's ear. "We are in a dressing room. But I don't think that's stopping you from wanting my fingers knuckle deep inside you, Rachel."

And at that, Rachel lets out a low and needy sigh. "Quinn..."

"Tell me what you want." Quinn doesn't ask. She demands. And that alone practically silences the world outside of the dressing room. When Rachel doesn't answer immediately-words stuck in her dry throat-Quinn grazes her teeth against her earlobe before pulling back to gaze at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Tell me," Quinn says again.

Rachel nearly whimpers because the low husk of Quinn's voice runs through her body before pooling between her legs.

"You," Rachel breathes. "Touch me. Please."

"Where?"

Quinn's smirk is back and if it wasn't for the fact that she was throbbing, Rachel would have bristled. Instead she responds, trying to keep her voice casual. "You know where."

"Say it for me," Quinn whispers with all signs of her previous smirk gone.

Rachel almost doesn't want to, just to see what Quinn would do because now there's a certain edge to her girlfriend's voice. A want-a need-echoing back in her words. But she gives in, keeping her voice low. "I want your hand between my legs. I want your fingers dipping inside me and rubbing against my clit. I want your body against mine and I want you to kiss me."

The last word only just barely leaves her lips before Quinn kisses her, all tongue and teeth and hard. Her girlfriend's hands squeeze her ass once more before sliding up. Rachel shivers as Quinn's fingers trail against the skin of her abdomen. She works against her restraints as Quinn's hands reach her breasts, and then she holds back a moan as those hands pull aside her bra to reach her nipples. Unable to grab her girlfriend, Rachel focuses her energy into their kiss, forcing her tongue into Quinn's mouth.

Quinn rips away from the kiss after just a moment however. "I don't think so," she growls.

And Rachel finds her head being firmly yet gently pulled to the left against her raised arm as one of her girlfriend's hands wrap around the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair. As her other hand stays busy on her breasts, Quinn wastes no time attaching her lips to Rachel's neck. She sucks the skin near her shoulder, and Rachel knows it'll leave an angry red mark that will turn into the dull purple of a bruise.

Rachel lets out a gasp when Quinn nips her way up her neck while pinching one of her nipples. She can tell that's exactly what her girlfriend was waiting for when she feels lips curve into a smirk against her neck.

"You have to be quiet. I think you can handle it. Don't prove me wrong," Quinn says lowly even as she continues to pepper kisses against her neck.

"I can be quiet," Rachel whispers.

"I've barely even touched you yet and I had you moaning," Quinn smirks.

"That was hardly any noise!" Rachel exclaims as softly as possible.

"But are you going to be able to stay quiet as I fuck you?" Quinn husks.

Hearing her girlfriend use "fuck"-that word passing Quinn's lips alone makes her throb. "Yes," she breathes.

Rachel's heart pounds as Quinn's hand drops from her breasts to her right thigh, pushing up her skirt. She shifts, opening up her legs a little more and leaning back against the dressing room wall more as Quinn's hand travels inside her thigh. Her girlfriend pulls back from her neck, but stays close enough that Rachel can almost taste the words that fall from Quinn's lips as her hand skims her panties.

"Already soaked," Quinn says lowly. "As much as I love to make you sing, I need you to be quiet as I fuck you. But before that, I need you to tell me exactly how you want me to do it."

"I...I want..." Rachel begins. It's hard to focus with Quinn's eyes meeting hers and how she can just feel her fingers grazing her panties. But she also wants nothing more than to please Quinn right now. "I want you to start with two fingers. I want you to push them inside me and I want to clench around you as you thrust."

And then both Quinn's hands have her skirt pushed up around her hips. One hand yanks aside her underwear and the two fingers of the other slide inside her with little resistance. Rachel aches to cling to Quinn, to touch her in some way as her fingers fill her. Quinn seems to read the desperation on her face though because a second later, Rachel is being kissed thoroughly as her girlfriend begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of her.

Rachel adapts to the rhythm with practiced ease, rocking her hips to meet Quinn's thrusts. She breaks from the kiss with a heavy sigh as she feels the warmth building below her stomach with every curl of her girlfriend's fingers. She wants-she needs... "My clit. Quinn please," she breathes out in desperation.

Quinn's eyes seem to darken even more, and she wraps one arm around Rachel's hip, hand slipping between her ass and the wall to take control. She thrusts once more before slowly sliding out and letting her hand slip down through her folds to find her clit. Rachel bites her lip to keep from crying out at the flush of pleasure from the contact and she barely holds in a moan in the back of her throat as Quinn's fingers begin to draw tight little circles.

"Are you going to come for me Rachel?" Quinn says. "I want you too. Right here. Come for me."

Rachel wants nothing more than to grab onto Quinn. She aches to touch her-to share some of the physical pleasure as her girlfriend's fingers increase their pace. She feels it building more and more low in her stomach. She struggles to keep her eyes open and on Quinn's face, but as her lips part and her head tips to the side she can't help but close them.

"Look at me," Quinn commands.

Rachel's eyes snap back open without question. The hand her girlfriend had on her ass travels up her back, before finding her neck. Quinn grabs, holding her head steady, and somehow still presses her body even closer while maintaining the rhythm of her fingers against her clit.

Rachel forgets to breathe. She throbs and her heart hammers in her chest and the pressure below her stomach radiates outward. She comes, unable to keep her eyes from squeezing shut. She hears a groan of pleasure, but it's not hers. It's Quinn's and Rachel shudders harder.

As the pleasure subsides into airy relaxation, Quinn holds her closely, the hand on her neck having dropped back down so that she could wrap an arm around her.

"You're so gorgeous," Quinn says before stealing Rachel's recovering breaths with a kiss and pulling her hand away from between her legs.

Rachel allows herself a small moan of contentment as Quinn pulls back and that reminds of her of the noise Quinn made when she came. She opens her mouth to call her girlfriend out on it, only for a knock to resound on the dressing room door. The knock practically sounds like thunder and the sounds of the store come rushing back into the dressing room in its wake.

"Everything going okay? How's that dress working out?"

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief that that is the only thing the sales associate is asking and exchanges a glance with Quinn. Her girlfriend has managed to look pleased with herself, relieved, and amused all at once.

"It's great!" Rachel manages to say. "I think it's exactly what I'm looking for. Thank you."

Quinn's lips press tightly together in a restrained smile.

"Untie me," Rachel mouths over the sales associate's answering "great!"

Quinn's smile grows, but she begins to work at untying the belt as the sales associate's footsteps carry her away. "Exactly what you're looking for huh?" she smirks. "Still want to try it on?"

"No. But I'm buying it," Rachel answers as her hands are released. She immediately grabs Quinn by the collar of her jacket before she can step back. Rachel leans up and kisses her hard. She pulls back slightly after a moment, knowing it was just long enough to keep Quinn wanting more. "And we're going straight home."


End file.
